Escaping The Cold
by StripedHatter
Summary: [A GrellxUndertaker Story] Grell gets some help leaving the cold from Undertaker. Fluffy.


It was a freezing December night, to no one's surprise. Dark clouds blotted the moon and stars, holding in their heavy precipitation, which was bound to shed upon the city any day now. On the streets, a lone man- er, woman- well no, man- no… ah, forget it- Grell Sutcliff roamed. He emitted the occasional sighs of loneliness. He lacked any task to do- no souls to reap, and that handsome butler from the Phantomhive manor was gone. It seems dear Sebby and the young master had gone for a holiday trip with the servants, not due to be back until after Christmas.

Though the demon was no longer the front of Grell's mind, he _was _the man Grell currently was attracted to that Grell had the courage to speak to. There was another on the redhead's mind these days, though- a glimpse behind a curtain of ashy bangs and Grell swore his heart was split in two, one half belonging to the cold-hearted butler, one half belonging to the creepy but gorgeous Undertaker.

As thoughts of the Undertaker's lovely face filled the redhead's mind, another wistful sigh whispered through his sharp teeth. Behind the frames of his glasses, his eyes gleamed with nearly-spilling tears. "Oh, good heavens, why can't he just be mine!?"

"Well, my dear, I'm sure anyone you desire could be yours."

Grell squealed and whirled around, a hand in front of his mouth and his eyes wide. He hadn't expected an answer to his cry of despair- and especially not one from that voice. His eyes fell on Undertaker's dark frame, where a smile lifted the older man's lips. Grell's heart was hammering in his chest and his stomach was now filled to the brim with vicious butterflies. Grell shook himself, regaining his composure and falling into flirt-mode.

"If only, but the men I desire never desire me." He placed a hand on his forehead dramatically, eyes cast down in his sorrow, and Undertaker approached him quickly, placing an arm around the shoulder of the redhead.

"There, there, now- perhaps you're just going after the wrong men. Come for a walk with me, let's get out of this freezing weather," Undertaker coaxed and Grell practically fell into his arms. Undertaker led him down the street some, talking all the while.

"My, my, dear- you're freezing! Whaddaya say, fresh hot tea and a warm blanket for you?" At Grell's content silence, Undertaker continued. "It could be quite lovely, just the two of us, drinking hot tea all warmed up under the blankets. It could be simply wonderful. We could talk the night away, light a small fire, and escape the cold- a friendly chat between old... friends." A pained undertone came over Undertaker's voice at the word _friends_ and he fell silent.

Moments later they reached the Undertaker's shop and the sleeve-covered hands lifted a key from within his sash, unlocking the door and then replacing the key. He reached back and took Grell's hand, shocking the unusually silent reaper- though Grell had started out with intentions to be flirty and dramatic, these intentions were forgotten in Undertaker's kindness. It had been a long time since someone had treated him with true kindness.

Undertaker led Grell into the backroom, where another doorway sat unnoticed in a dark corner. Undertaker, still embracing Grell's hand with his, guided Grell through this doorway. Inside, Grell was taken aback by the interior of this room.

Richly hued wooden floors held up a small wrought iron frame bed, not big enough for anything to be done on. A fireplace sat in one corner, black marble in front of it and a smooth red sofa across the tile from the fire. A few crates sat around, along with cauldrons, herbs, candles, and a painting of a young guy with dark grayish hair, a broad smile, proper English gentlemen clothes, and... A death scythe? Grell gasped as recognition hit. He approached the painting and saw where the artist had had trouble painting Undertaker's gorgeous eyes. This younger version of him was quite attractive- but honestly, Grell preferred the Undertaker he knew. He was still gaping at the picture when a finger tapped his shoulder. Grell turned around to see Undertaker holding two cups of tea.

"I... I prepared your tea for you," Undertaker said with a hopeful smile. Grell returned it and took the tea, and Undertaker lead him over to the couch where the two sat down. Grell carefully sipped the tea, and this time his gasp was restrained by a mouthful of delectable tea. Undertaker seemed to be studying him carefully from behind his bangs, and his grin widened when Grell finally gave him a real smile.

"Oh, Undertaker- you're the greatest friend I could ask for, a caring cure for the cold." But even as Grell said this, his teeth still chattered slightly from his extended time in the cold. Undertaker noticed this and his manner changed some to sly.

"I've neglected you, though- you're still cold." Grell's eyebrows creased at Undertaker's words, and he continued. "Your lips are still slightly blue."

Grell's eyebrows smoothed in understanding, realizing the man's plan. Undertaker buried a hand in Grell's soft red hair, his hand cradling the other man's neck and pulling him closer. Their lips touched finally- a moment Grell had been waiting for seemingly forever. His eyes drifted closed and he leaned into the kiss, only to have the teacup slip from his hand and land with a crash on the floor. They leapt apart in shock as hot tea splashed everywhere and the glass shattered. Grell's heart broke- how could he do such a thing to someone so kind?!

"I- I'm so sorry!" He stammered, unable to control the fit he was surely soon to fall into. Undertaker, on the other hand, remained perfectly calm and simply swept the shattered glass over to the wall, where Grell now noticed a collection of other shattered glass.

"That happens quite often- when I have epiphanies, I tend to drop my tea cups. I wonder what thoughts could have been roaming that pretty little head of yours." Undertaker gave Grell a warm smile, but he was still stunned- Undertaker was… _Perfect! _The softest lips- the most precious, perfect lips- with just enough pressure, not too much, not too gentle-

"That you're perfect," Grell managed to choke out of his throat and Undertaker gave a chuckle, pulling the redheaded man close on the couch.

"A perfect way to escape the cold," Undertaker murmured. He kissed the top of Grell's head, and Grell snuggled up to his dark companion. Finally, something had gone right in his love life.


End file.
